


Oh, The Stars Shine

by parkjinchu



Series: The Park-Lee Family [1]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Parenthood, basically just a lot of jincha lovin and they have a cute lil baby gal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 13:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11014368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjinchu/pseuds/parkjinchu
Summary: As a life grows between them, a baby girl inherits her father's traits, and they watch her grow, together. A collection of memories depicting the shaping of a human life and the relationships within a strong and loving family.this is a work of fiction, and in no way represents the real lives of astro's members. in case of astro/fantagio/reasonable fan request, this fic will be taken downread full disclaimer on my profile





	1. The First Day - The Sixth Month

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkjincha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjincha/gifts).



> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT BUT I GET CARRIED AWAY WITH EVERYTHING SO WHOOPS THIS WILL PROBABLY HAVE LIKE 3 OR 4 CHAPTERS

_The First Day_

Perched in a glass cradle, swaddled in a thick pink blanket, her tiny face pokes out. Cheeks red and plush, two round pillows on either side of her face. Between them, a tiny pair of wet, pink lips, shaped delicately around a tongue and naked gums. He small nose is a button in the centre of her cherub-face, smoothing out onto her forehead. Little wisps of black hair rest on the top of her soft, bulbous head. Her eyes, small and inquisitive, scan all that she can see.

One large hand shakily reaches out and pets the swaddling, running their fingers over the fabric, and with their knuckle, gently prodding her pudgy cheeks. Immediately, the hand is retracted to the owner’s chest, who begins to cry.

“Jinwoo,” Dongmin coos, gently. “You can stop crying now,” he mutters, a smile delicately drawn upon his lips. He follows Jinwoo’s actions, bringing one hand down to pet at the baby girl, gently pushing back the hairs on her head and twirling them around his finger.

All Jinwoo can do is shake his head, “It’s impossible!” He cries, gesturing to the girl between them. “Things can’t be that small, and that cute. It doesn’t work.” His eyes follow Dongmin’s fingers, delicately tracing the outline of the baby girl’s swaddled body, and watching her eyes follow, too.

“ _Things_?” Dongmin mocks, “This is our _child_ , Jinwoo.” The words leave his mouth with a bantering bite, but a smile dances on his lips at the thought – this was _their_ child. The words felt foreign, but he welcomed them.

Born only one day before, Eunbyeol was still tiny and lingered with the sweet scent of a new born. Eunbyeol, named after the shining stars by her fathers, had been what Jinwoo and Dongmin considered the final puzzle piece of their lives together. They’d met her birth mother many months ago, when Eunbyeol was nothing but a grape in the womb, and had watched from a distance as the bulb grew, and blossomed into a gorgeous little baby girl.

“Do you want to hold her, first?” Dongmin asks, quietly. His forefinger strokes at the space between her eyebrows, watching her eyes flutter and try to focus on his long finger. His thumb pokes at her fluffy cheeks.

To the question, Jinwoo ponders, but shakes his head. “I don’t want to drop her – besides, I want to see how you do it, so I don’t do it wrong,” he admits, leaning his chin in his hand, and glancing down at the girl. Her skin felt like velvet beneath his fingertips. Her breath sounded like the wispy Spring breeze. The rise and fall of her chest signified a life growing – a life growing between he and Dongmin; their final connection.

Dongmin nods, warily, and pulls to a stand. Hovering over her cradle, he tucks his fingers under her squirming body and slowly lifts her into the air. “Shh, it’s okay,” he hushes, though she makes no noise or sign of struggle. Jinwoo wonders if perhaps he is reassuring himself, too. “I’ve got you, pretty Eunbyeol,” he says, lowering himself back into his chair and clutching the baby to his warm chest.

Jinwoo watches carefully – the way Dongmin’s arm stretches out underneath her small frame, the bend of his elbow supporting the shape of her head. His other hand pulls underneath, and his fingers stroke over the curled shell of her ears. Her eyes blink curiously up at him, and she wriggles in his grasp. Dongmin gasps at the movement, a giddy grin pulling his cheeks apart.

Perhaps, Jinwoo had already been in love with Eunbyeol. Before she was even born, when she was only an idea that lived in the far future. As she rests in the arms of Dongmin, who he loves most in the world, Jinwoo wonders whether first place will make room for a draw.

Dongmin seems to understand, and as he cradles the girl closer to him, he whispers to her, “Wow, I really love you already. I’m your new dad, Eunbyeol, and your Papa and I will love you, so much.” He chats, as if, by some miracle, she understands everything he is saying, and could respond easily.

Jinwoo smiles, pressing his body over the edge of the cradle. Her eyes scan over him, widening slightly with curiosity. She latches her gaze onto him, processing his features with a precision that he’d only seen of Dongmin before. He wonders, briefly, how quickly she will map out their faces.

“Do you want a go?” Dongmin asks, quietly, whispering between them. “Of holding her, Jinwoo?” Slowly, apprehensively, Jinwoo nods, a slight shift of his head up and down. He chews on his bottom lip, a white line creasing beneath his teeth. Carefully, Dongmin stands and makes his way to Jinwoo, who diligently holds his arms out.

Lowering Eunbyeol into Jinwoo’s arms, Dongmin positions her comfortably in his grasp. Almost immediately, sniffling is heard, and the younger man presses his warm palm to the small of Jinwoo’s back, rubbing in soft circles. “Please, don’t get tears on her,” he mutters through a grin, swiping his thumb underneath Jinwoo’s eyes.

“I can’t help it,” Jinwoo mutters, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes tightly. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, Minnie. You, me, and a baby,” he huffs out an awkward breath between a sigh and a laugh, as he glances over at Dongmin, who snuggles into the crook of his neck.

“Me, too,” Dongmin whispers, in reply, playing with the swaddling by Eunbyeol’s feet.

Their bodies mould together by the sides, as they always had, though a small bundle sits between them, now. Cradled in their arms and within their hearts, the physical evidence of their love starts its brand-new life.

 

_The First Week_

The bedroom is bright, on this full-moon night. The pale glow of the moon shines in through the window, bathing the room with a milky colour. The rest of the world is asleep, casting no thought to the way the moon watches over them.

A bassinette, a very light shade of pink and dressed with a lacey curtain draped over it, is Eunbyeol’s bed. At the foot of the couple’s bed, she rests quietly on her back, the mobile strung up above her spinning in slow circles. The moon’s light dances in patches on her tiny body, and her legs wriggle within the swaddling, getting used to the body she’ll inhabit for the rest of her life.

Jinwoo and Dongmin peer over the edge of her cot, huddled at the end of their own bed, hands clutching at the bassinette’s pink barrier. With wide eyes, they watch her inquisitive ones follow the spinning of the mobile. Stunned by the tiny figure nestled under a blanket, the two men almost halt their breathing entirely, gentle wavers of air all that pass through their lips.

The first week had been a blur of feeding, changing nappies, and wondering what her cries meant. A lot of confusion, on both parts, but each day seemed to end the same way, no matter what catastrophe had been overcome.

Each day, the sun would fall behind the horizon and the moon would tug itself along the inky sky and peer into their bedroom. Dongmin and Jinwoo would aid their daughter, lulling her to sleep by singing and chatting quietly, before curling up together under their own blankets. Until, eventually, they’d pull out of each other’s arms, eager to see her again. Just to stare at her, at the tiny girl who will grow into a small one, and then, into one just like the two of them, now.

Jinwoo turns to Dongmin, and whispers the same thing he had the past seven days. “Can you believe we have a daughter, Min?” He would ask, nudging his companion gently in the side.

Each night, Dongmin would chuckle and press a kiss to Jinwoo’s temple. “I can’t believe it. Can you?” He would reply, and Jinwoo would shake his head, and they’d share a quiet laugh.

“You know,” Jinwoo adds one night, tacking onto the end of the conversation. “One day, she will walk, and she will talk, and she will be the collaboration of us. Everything she does and says will be what we are, squashed into one tiny person. Can you believe _that_?” He whispers, delicately, as if saying it louder would break the tiny girl beneath them.

Dongmin glances over at him, at the curves of his facial features and the way the moonlight contours them under an ethereal glow. He blinks, capturing the sight in his mind’s eye; a snapshot. “What if we ruin her?” Dongmin asks, suddenly, though his light tone suggests banter. Jinwoo raises his eyebrows at the thought, and Dongmin hurries to correct himself, “We won’t, Jinwoo, I was kidding, honey. She’ll be fine – we’ll be fine. Let’s nurture her into a beautiful princess, hmm?”

Jinwoo turns back to him, now, facing him. He nods slowly, eyelids fluttering. He turns back to the baby, reaching one hand into the cot to pat her swaddled, chubby body. “Go back to sleep, baby Eunbyeol. Your dads love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his fingers and tapping her cheeks gently. They wobble beneath his touch, and he laughs softly at the sight.

“Shall we go back to sleep, too?” Dongmin asks, after saying goodnight to the baby, and resting back onto the mattress. He tugs at Jinwoo’s arm, and the older man follows him back up the bed and under the covers. Jinwoo, shorter, slithers under Dongmin’s arms and perches his head against his chest. Dongmin presses a kiss to his hairline, “Goodnight, Jinwoo,” he whispers against his warm skin.

“Goodnight, Dongmin.”

 

_The First Month_

Jinwoo lifts Eunbyeol’s back up carefully, tucking the swaddling over her arms and back in on itself. He pats around the thin twigs of her arms and legs to assure they’re comfortably arranged, “I think I’ve finally got the hang of swaddling,” he comments, peering over his shoulder at Dongmin, to check if he’d done everything correctly. “Soon, we won’t even need it,” he laughs, and at the nod from the other man, lifts the baby into his arms and into the air. Gently, presses a kiss to the button of her nose, a small round bud in the centre of her face.

“Do you remember where I put her pacifier?” Dongmin asks, patting at his pockets and scanning the area around them, Eunbyeol’s pink nursery.

Jinwoo shakes his head, humming lightly. “No, I haven’t. Just grab a spare one from the box,” he replies, pointing at a box in the corner filled with comforters such as spare pacifiers, rags and blankets, and soft toys.

“We keep losing things,” Dongmin comments light-heartedly, scrounging around in the purple box up on the shelf. A small, stuffed lamb falls out and lands on its plush bottom, until Dongmin retrieves a pacifier and tucks the toy back inside. “I found the top of a baby bottle in the pram, yesterday. The one we thought we’d lost when out with the boys.”

The older man laughs again, shuffling the baby in his arms and placing her down in that very pram. He lay Eunbyeol flat on her back, informing her that he’d clip her in, before tucking her under a small blanket. He ducks under the shade screen of the stroller and pecks her small cheek, before sliding back out and clipping a travel mobile up above her.

“Whatever happened to the baby bag we were supposed to be taking everywhere?” Jinwoo asks, tapping at the handle of the stroller to a tune unheard. “Why do we keep dumping things in the carry tray of the pram?” He jokes, bending down and reaching inside the fabric basket at the base of the pram. He retrieves a rattle (which Eunbyeol is still unable to grasp), and a pair of earphones. “Whose are these?!” He cries, holding them in the air.

“Oh, those are Minhyuk’s,” Dongmin replies. “I told him I’d take care of them when I saw him a few weeks ago. He hasn’t asked for them back yet and I-.” Suddenly, he halts his sentence, and stares down at their daughter, resting in the pram, head poking out over the blanket Jinwoo had secured her under. “She’s listening to us. Eunbyeol’s looking for you,” he says, unable to look away from her as she examines his face. He gestures for Jinwoo to stand up.

As he rises from the floor and peers over the edge of the pram, sure enough, the little girl had been staring at Dongmin, taking in the outline of his figure and the details of his face. Jinwoo wonders if she understands them by their faces, now, and not only the smell of their chests and the vibration of their voices. She blinks up at him, long, dark eyelashes fanning against her big cheeks.

“Do you think she can recognise us by our faces yet?” He decides to ask. The sound of his voice has Eunbyeol’s head whipping down to meet him, and her big, brown eyes shiver over his features. “She’s watching me!” He cries, “Look, Min! She’s memorising what we look like!”

They both shuffle closer, leaning inside the pram. The little girl wriggles inside her swaddling as they chat with her, taking turns as her eyes shift left and right, watching them carefully. A little squeal of delight echoes out of her as her father’s talk animatedly to her, which makes both men laugh.

Then, as if by a miracle, in which every happy wish came together and blessed this small family of three, Eunbyeol shared her first smile. Her lips curl in on themselves and up into a triangular grin, baring her toothless, pink gums for the world to see. A small giggle bubbles out of her tiny body, as she joins in on her father’s laughter.

Both men gasp violently, sharing a brief, incredulous glance between them before whipping their heads back to their baby girl. There’s a warmth that boils in their chest and escapes in breathy bursts as laughs with Eunbyeol. “Her first smile, and her first laugh!” Dongmin cheers, hand cupping over his own brilliantly shining grin.

“Who’s a clever girl?” Jinwoo cries, poking gently at her chubby belly. “Eunbyeol is!”

“Thank you for smiling for us, Eunbyeol,” Dongmin says, leaning further in to press a kiss on her forehead. He feels the curl of her tiny lips and the rise of her cheeks, and a small giggle bouncing out of her chest, and can’t wait to make her smile millions more times.

 

_The Sixth Month_

Eunbyeol pats at the faux sheepskin rug, chubby, starfish shaped hands threading through the warm fabric. She’s bigger now, rounder, with long tufts of black hair on her head, and lips that almost never stop smiling. Scattered around her are various toys: a rattle, building blocks, stuffed animals, and books. She rests on her plump belly, neck craned up as she peers at her fathers, who assemble a new crib together, on the floor only a few feet away.

Dongmin holds the instruction booklet in his hand, guiding Jinwoo through each step. Surrounded by a circle of nuts and bolts and screwdrivers of varying sizes, the older man’s face coils up in frustration as he glares at the think planks of wood in front of him. They’d decided to get Eunbyeol a new cot, after the girl started learning how to sit up, and the worry that she’d sit and roll out of her bassinet itched at the two fathers. However, Jinwoo holds two nearly identical planks of wood before his eyes, and argues with his partner about which is which.

“No,” he declares, shaking one in the air. “This is the side plank, and this is the corner plank,” he argues, comparing them, shoving them side by side. “See, _this_ one is a bit thinner than this one!”

“No!” Dongmin cries, waving the paper before the older man’s eyes. The paper makes a crinkling noise, as if to mock him. “It says in the instructions that _this_ one is the side plank. Look at the holes! They’re in the middle! It’s clearly the side plank.” To this, Jinwoo groans and rubs his forehead furiously with his curled fists. “Why do you never listen to me?”

Dongmin’s face is sullen, as he plays with the paper in his hands. Jinwoo’s jaw drops, and he pushes the planks to the floor with a remarkably loud clatter. “What do you _mean_ ‘why do I never listen to you’?!” He asks, running a hand through his hair. Dongmin shifts his eyes away, ignoring him. “Look!” Jinwoo cries, grabbing a bolt from the packet and trying to force it into one of the holes in the plank. It doesn’t fit, too wide for the small cut out, and Jinwoo harrumphs triumphantly. “The screws don’t even fit.”

The pair were used to making compromises for each other – fighting was irregular between the two men, and felt unnatural. However, sometimes, their bickering can unearth their stubborn traits. The worse a fight had ever gotten between the two of them, Jinwoo had locked himself in their bedroom and cried, until Dongmin knocked quietly on the door and apologised from the other side.

Realisation that the fight had been ridiculous comes soon after they cool down – though, currently, both men were too fired up to understand each other.

“You’re using the wrong ones!” Dongmin cries, gathering every ounce of his energy, and using it to stop himself from scrunching the instruction booklet up.

At the sound of his yelling, Eunbyeol begins to wail. Her high-pitched cry rips out of her lungs and wobbles through the air, cutting the father’s fight short. As a silence hangs between them, they glance over at her, her small face squished into the centre with a tight grimace, cheeks lined with tears, as miserable shrieks pierce their ears.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Jinwoo mumbles to himself, pushing the unassembled equipment behind he and Dongmin, and out of the way. The sound of his voice visibly soothes the girl, and her cries simmer into hiccups and whimpers. “Can you come over here? Your Papa and your Dada will hug you better,” he tells her, voice oozing with sweetness.

Dongmin edges closer, and beckons her over with a wave of his hand. Together, the two fathers encourage the sniffling baby closer. In recent days, she’d been experimenting crawling, using her fat, dimply legs to wriggle across the floor. The two decided to encourage this milestone in her life whenever possible.

Eunbyeol clambers to her hands and knees, bouncing slightly. She reaches one little hand out in front of her and places it down, letting her knee follow afterwards. Jinwoo can almost see the calculations she makes in her brain as she places her other hand down, and lets the respective knee follow. She picks up the action rather quickly, and soon, she is clumsily crawling her way to her parents.

The fathers cheer as she rolls back onto her stomach when she reaches the space between them, and Dongmin scoops her up into his arms and hugs her close to him. Jinwoo shuffles closer, and wraps his arms around the pair, pressing a kiss to the still damp cheeks of their baby girl.

Eunbyeol, though she is still small, and cannot talk, has healing powers stronger than anything Jinwoo had ever experienced in his life. He feels the hairline crack in his relationship with Dongmin, caused by the fight just moments ago, fill and smooth over from her presence alone. Dongmin must feel it, too, as he leans his head against Jinwoo’s shoulder and sits the girl between them on one of his legs, and one of Jinwoo’s own.

“Yay! Our baby girl can crawl!” He cries, tickling at her stomach. A screeching giggle escapes her and she wriggles about in their grasp, smile stretched between her cheeks.

“That’s our Eunbyeol!” Jinwoo cheers, patting her back gently. He presses a kiss to Dongmin’s dark head of hair, and as he pulls away, mumbles an apology for their fight. Their daughter watches them talk things out, kiss each other’s lips sweetly, and joins them by the pile of planks.

Soon enough, the crib is built (the plank in question being neither a side or corner plank), and carted into Eunbyeol’s room. “It’s gonna be weird, finally having her in her own room,” Jinwoo comments, carefully setting up the mattress and quilts in their daughter’s new cot. “And, not hearing her breathing or her soft snores, or her fidgeting… How are we supposed to know if she’s okay? Oh, God, Dongmin, what if something goes wrong?” Jinwoo speaks fast, voice rising with each new thought that dribbles into his brain. “What if she stops breathing, or she hits her head on the cot railing, or her heart just _stops_? How are we gonna know she’s okay?”

Shakily, he drops a pillow into the cot, and pulls a hand through his hair. Eunbyeol, unaware, rolls along the carpet onto her back, chasing after a toy. Dongmin hurries to Jinwoo’s side, catching the man’s hips in his hands, tugging him close. “Jinwoo, baby, stop panicking,” he mumbles, pressing his lips to the crown of Jinwoo’s head and muttering into his thick, brown hair. He presses a kiss to Jinwoo’s hairline, where his forehead starts, before pressing another kiss there, too, pushing his fringe out of the way.

Relaxing into his touch, Jinwoo’s folded hands press against Dongmin’s chest. A shaky breath stutters out of his lips, breathing shivering over Dongmin’s collarbones, as Dongmin shushes him gently. “We’ll have a baby monitor, and if she’s hurt or hungry or needs a change, she’ll cry out for us. We’re used to waking up in the middle of the night for her, right?” Dongmin smiles gently, swaying their bodies along to music unheard. “She’s so hungry and spoilt, she can’t even go a whole night without a feed and a cuddle,” he jokes, and Jinwoo laughs against him, bubbly chuckle echoing out of him.

“Dongmin,” Jinwoo says after a moment of silence. He pulls his head back so their eyes meet, and pushes his hands around the younger man’s waist. “I love you,” he whispers into the air. Though the words had been said millions of times between them, they still set off fireworks in Dongmin’s heart. He grinned, whispering the words back, before connecting their lips, sweetly.

They meet in the middle, just as they always had.


	2. The First Year - One Year, and One Half

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im literally so exhausted i just wanted to give you a chapter of something before i disappear for a few days (possibly two weeks) to study sorry i love you all see you soon

_The First Year_

_Happy Birthday, to you! Happy Birthday, to you! Happy Birthday, dear Eunbyeol, Happy Birthday to you!!_

Eunbyeol sits in her high-chair, dressed in a lacy pink dress wrapped over her chubby belly, a cupcake on the table in front of her. Dongmin, too scared to light the candle near her in case she reaches out to grab it, holds it in the air, kneeling beside her, other arm wrapped around her back. Jinwoo sits across from them with his video camera, recording as he and their friends surround his daughter and sing to her.

Minhyuk and Moonbin clap along to the sound of everyone’s singing, and Myungjun and Sanha compete to see who can shriek the lyrics the loudest. Eunbyeol laughs, sweet and bubbly as it leaves her, as she tries to squeal along to the words she doesn’t know. As the song ends, Dongmin encourages her to blow the candle, by showing her with his own mouth. “Blow out the candle, Byeol-ie,” Jinwoo encourages, stepping closer.

She observes her Dad, copying him and curling her lips into a little ‘o’ shape, attempting to blow out the candle. Unfortunately, the baby girl had yet to grasp this ability, and sputters spit all over the icing. The flame does flicker out, however, and the group of six men cheer. Dongmin presses a kiss to her head, where her hair has grown thick enough to allow two tiny pigtails on either side of her head.

“Happy Birthday, Eunbyeol!” Jinwoo cheers, before shutting off the camera. He scurries forward, and presses a kiss to her cheek, just as her Dada had done. He peels the paper casing off the cupcake and breaks it into bitesize pieces, raising one up to the girl’s face. “It’s her first taste of cake, or sweets of any kind,” he tells the group of friends, and Dongmin nods. “Let’s see if she likes it,” he mutters, as she gratefully accepts the little treat.

Her tiny pink lips smear with chocolate as the cake falls onto her tongue. Eyes widened, Eunbyeol swallows and shrieks in delight, giggles fluttering out of her. Her little stars for hands reach out for the rest of the cake in Jinwoo’s hands, fists squeezing in attempt to grasp for more. The men laugh as she squirms in her high-chair, and Jinwoo hands her another bitesize piece.

By the end of her cupcake, and the adult’s own, the chocolate is smeared across her table and her cheeks and hands. Stuck, too, in her wide, sparkling grin. Dongmin wipes her up with a soft wet cloth, dabbing at the chocolate smatters on her birthday dress, before lifting her out of the chair. “Before we begin with the gifts, can Eunbyeol show you her new trick?” Dongmin asks, holding onto one of her hands as she stands beside him, arm raised above her head.

The family’s friends settle around the couch, and Jinwoo drops to his knees on the other side of the room. With a gentle voice, and arms raised, he beckons their young daughter over to him. Eunbyeol turns to her Dad, almost as if checking for permission, and Dongmin nods gently, pushing ever so slightly on her back to encourage her forward. Her face twists into one of determination, and she wobbles forward on her right leg.

She waddles slightly, when she walks. In her tiny fabric shoes tied in small bows around her ankles, she takes swaying steps forward toward her Papa. His arms are stretched out for her, ready to catch her in case she falls on her short walk to the other side of the room. As she stumbles her way over the ‘finish line’, Jinwoo’s lap, he cuddles her into his chest and kisses the middle part in her hair.

Their friends cheer excitedly, congratulating Eunbyeol on a new milestone in her growth. She giggles at the praise, as kisses are littered over her chubby cheeks and her feathery hair.

That night, as she’s curled under her blankets in her crib, pacifier bobbing between her tiny pink lips, her first birthday draws to a close. In her arms is a stuffed bear, almost the size of herself, face pressed up against hers, as a gift from Myungjun. Her one-piece stretches over her bulbous belly, and rises and falls with her breathing. Eunbyeol’s eyelids flutter ever so slightly, as she sleeps, basked under an off-white glow from her night-light.

Her two fathers huddle at the end of her bed, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms. Jinwoo’s head rests against Dongmin’s chest, nose pressed against his warmth. A hand curls into his hair, absentmindedly massaging his head. Dongmin feel Jinwoo’s voice, a rumbling vibration against his chest, as he says, “Can you believe she’s one year old, already?”

They’re both peering down into her cot at her sleeping form, disbelief gnawing at their hearts. No, Dongmin can’t believe it. How long was a year, after all? It usually felt so much longer. Eunbyeol had grown immensely, in every way, from a small bundle of skin and bones into a bubbly, smiling girl with an _extensive_ vocabulary of few words.

“I can’t believe it. Can you?”

The moment is oddly reminiscent of their first days with the girl. They were still a bit lost, if they were totally honest – but was any parent ever 100% certain of their doings? At least, Dongmin came to believe this was a myth he’d cultivated under the pressure of being a new parent. Besides, Eunbyeol had a full tummy, warm blankets, and a smile on her lips. Was there anything else she needed?

Jinwoo snuggles further into his chest. “She’s growing so fast,” he mumbles, fingers fisting around the cloth of Dongmin’s shirt. “Did the world start spinning faster?” He jokes. The girl squirms in her sleep, and both fathers glance down at her form, curved into a foetal position, now. Dongmin giggles quietly, and presses a kiss on Jinwoo’s forehead.

“What do you think she’s dreaming of?” Dongmin asks, quietly, a whisper into the warmth of the room.

Jinwoo doesn’t answer. They’re both left to their own theories, ideas, and wishes. They share, however, one thing in common: the desire that Eunbyeol know she is loved, and lives her entire long life with that in mind.

 

_One Year, and One Half_

“We’ve been playing chase for a whole _hour_!” Jinwoo declares, as Dongmin walks through the door, and he sweeps a giggling Eunbyeol up into his arms. She squirms in his grasp, and when he places her back down on the floor, she turns and scurries away, an impish grin on her lips. She stands behind the corner, peering into the room, awaiting her fathers to continue chasing her.

Jinwoo pauses the game for a moment, stepping forward to greet his partner. On the tips of his socked toes, he reaches up to press a kiss to Dongmin’s lips, hands cupping the man’s cheeks. Dongmin lets a lazy smile creep onto his lips, eyes drooping, as they part, and he ducks his head into the curve of Jinwoo’s neck.

Work was long, and work was hard, and getting back into the role after being on parental leave had left Dongmin utterly exhausted. He drops his bag by their feet and wraps his arms around the smaller man, snuggling into his warmth. Jinwoo ran his fingers through his wavy black hair, pressing kisses here and there. “Tired, baby?” He asks, quietly, and feels Dongmin nod against his skin.

“I miss you and Eunbyeol too much, throughout the day, now,” he mutters, warm breath washing against Jinwoo’s chest. He sighs, chest heaving so their ribs press together, before they collapse back into his own frame.

Jinwoo hums in understanding. He, too, had been back to work and missing his family members throughout the day. The couple had been taking turns – one day at work, one day with their daughter. Dongmin had a harder time dealing with Eunbyeol’s separation anxiety; an empath at heart, as he’d always been.

“If you’re feeling energetic enough, you can play with her while I prepare some dinner for all of us to have together,” he mumbles into the skin of his cheek where his lips lay in an endless kiss. He glances up at the clock, _6:04_. Besides, it’ll be time for her to go to bed soon. So, we’ll eat, and then we can bathe her, and read her to sleep. How does that sound?” Jinwoo whispers.

The girl – impatient, as she is a toddler – steps out from behind her hiding place and tugs on Dongmin’s jeans. He lifts his head to peer down at her, warm smile embracing his cheeks. “Hello, Byeol-ie,” he smiles, reaching down to pet her unkempt hair. He glances back up at Jinwoo, “That sounds good. Thank you,” he mutters, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, before crouching down to Eunbyeol’s height.

Jinwoo steps away into the kitchen, and soon enough, the quiet, domestic and systematic sound of machinery whirring is heard. Eunbyeol steps into her Dada’s arms, where he sits on the floor, and falls into his lap. “Chase me,” she urges, without saying hello, patting on his chest. A cheeky smile is toying on her lips, one that had frequented her features an astounding amount in frequent months.

“ _Chase_ you, huh?” Dongmin chuckles, giving her chubby belly a tickle. She squirms in his grip, and he gently lets her go, so she can roll away. “Should I get you, Eunbyeol? I’m coming,” he says, and immediately, a shrill, exhilarated cry leaves her lips. She wobbles away, her running still leaps and bounds of clumsy footing, with her little arms pushing her forward.

He shifts onto his hands and knees and scurries after her. Her little head peers over her shoulder and she squeals as he follows her, claiming that he’ll get her. He keeps up the charade that she’s too fast for him for a while, until he gently takes her under her arms and spins her around in his grasp. “I got you!” He laughs, pressing kisses across her cheeks, as they spin in a circle together.

“Dada!” She cries, the word shuddering through her giggles.

He puts her back down on the floor, and she chases him, this time, and the game continues until Jinwoo calls them both for dinner. He pulls their daughter into her high chair and sets her smaller meal out before her, handing her a child’s fork and a sippy-cup filled with milk. Over dinner, the family of three chat between them, the men trying to piece together their daughter’s sentences, lips still shaping around random sounds rather than words. Even still, they talk to her normally, and her eyes sparkle with the joy of communication.

They clean up their dishes, propping them up in the dishwasher before heading off to the bathroom. Jinwoo fills the bathtub with some lukewarm water and copious amounts of bubble liquid, whilst Dongmin leads Eunbyeol to her bedroom to pick out her pyjamas. She stands before her cupboard and clumsily thumbs through her choices of pyjamas, chatting idly about them to her father.

Once they’ve picked a pair together, they stumble back into the bathroom, and carefully undress her and place the girl in the bath. The mountains of bubbles seem to swallow her up, and she plays with them in her small, chubby hands, telling stories out of the shapes she creates. She splashes in the water, rambling in broken sentences and odd sounds to her fathers. With cups of water and small washers, the two fathers sit by the edge of the bath and softly wipe her clean.

After she’s been cleaned, the two let her play in the bath a little longer. Various bath toys bob in the water around her, floating daintily in the small waves she creates. The night slows down, with the birds singing their final songs through the window, and the quiet laughter of a family of three echoing out and into the night.

Once out of the bath, and gently dried with a towel bigger than she, Eunbyeol tries to dress herself. With some help from her fathers, she successfully slides into her pyjamas, and together, they head back to the bathroom to brush their teeth. She offers to do it on her own, to brush her own incomplete set of pearly-whites, but gets toothpaste across the basin and her chubby cheeks.

Laughing softly, toothbrush dangling out of the side of his mouth, Jinwoo wipes her cheeks clean and fetches a cup of water to help her clean her mouth out.

Together, the two men lead her back to her crib and tuck her under her blankets. They read a small story to her, taking turns on each page, before kissing either side of her head, and switching the light out.

“Goodnight, Eunbyeol.”

“Goodnight, Eunbyeol.”

“G’night,” she mutters, into the darkness of the room, peering at her fathers between the bars of the crib.

“We love you, Eunbyeol-ie.”

“Love you,” she replies, extending one of her small arms between the bars of the crib, waving to them. A silence falls suddenly over the group, as the two dads stop in their places. Jinwoo gasps at her words, and glances at Dongmin, mouth agape. Dongmin can do nothing but smile, tugging Jinwoo closer to him.

“Say it again,” Jinwoo whispers, almost inaudibly, as if she would refuse to say it if she knew he wanted to hear her again. He stares down at her again, at her little body slithering closer towards the bars of the cot – closer to them.

Dongmin grins, “Eunbyeol, we love you,” he mutters, giddy lilt in his voice.

Her little hand waves again, and her broad, gapped smile is illuminated by the glow of the moon. “Love you,” she repeats, voice soft and sweet.

Something stirs in Jinwoo’s chest. His heart feels as if it’s melt and seeping into every section of his body, warm and tingling. He clutches at the chest of Dongmin’s shirt, ducking his face into the fabric. His eyes well up, tears prickling at his eyelids, and cries softly into Dongmin’s shirt. A warm hand rubs in a figure-eight on his lower back, kisses pressed gently to his forehead.

“Say goodnight to her, JinJin,” Dongmin mumbles quietly, carefully tugging the older man’s face away from the warmth of his chest.

Jinwoo swipes at his eyes, before muttering a wobbly, “Goodnight, Eunbyeol,” in the hopes that she would reply with the same, loving words as moments ago.

There’s a pause, the air still as the fathers await her next words. Her round eyes blink rapidly, for a moment, before she presses her face between two of the crib bars. “Papa. Dada. Love you,” she says. Her sentence is broken, her ability to string a sentence together still rather impaired with young age. Either way, her message comes across. “G’night,” she says again, but neither of her parents hear her, too busy sniffling into each other’s arms.

She rests her head back against her own pillow, an incentive for her parents to shut the door behind them. They stand in the dark hallway, cradled in each other’s grasp, nothing but the crack of light seeping out from underneath Eubyeol’s door to light the way.

“I wish I could replay that moment over, and over, forever,” Jinwoo mumbles, trying to trace the outlines of Dongmin’s features in the darkness. His hands find their way into Dongmin’s thick black hair, and his long fingers curl the strands delicately. Dongmin hums in agreement, one of his slightly cool hands finding refuge on Jinwoo’s warm back, beneath his shirt. “I love you, you know?” Jinwoo says, the rhetorical question gliding off his tongue, as if he’d never said those words before, as if Dongmin had no clue at all.

“I love you, too, you know?” Dongmin mimics, chiming. He pulls his hand underneath Jinwoo’s chin, holding his face steady for a moment, before tugging their lips together.

They stand frozen, in the centre of their home, lips connected sweetly. A delicate, physical display of the love they hold for each other and the girl growing between them.

The moon rises, and falls, and the sun follows. The birds sleep, and then they wake. The tide rises high and pushes the sand into dunes, before hurrying back out. The days go on, Eunbyeol continues to grow, and their small family only grows happier, with her.


	3. The Second Year - The Third Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She grows too fast, right?” Dongmin says, playing with Jinwoo’s hair, as his head rests in his lap. Eunbyeol raises the fistful of pink flowers into the air to showcase to her fathers, calling for them, her honey-sweet voice carried by the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when this was supposed to be a one shot, but now it's gonna have like 6 or 7 chapters and be a part of a series??? OOPS
> 
> anyway - im back after my mini study hiatus (which did hardly anything i worked so hard :( ) its so nice to be back writing again i feel so fresh ahhh i hope you enjoy :D

_The Second Year_

“Eunbyeol!” Jinwoo calls, from the kitchen. The soft, out-of-rhythm padding of feet is the only sound that follows, as the girl walks around the corner. He stands by the counter, making small sandwiches and a little lunchbox of finger foods. Pulling up a stool beside him, he lifts the toddler onto the stool, and she observes his cooking.

She names a few of the foods he puts into little containers, smiling when her father praises her.

“Do you know what we’re doing today, Byeol-ie?” Jinwoo asks, tucking a triangle-cut sandwich into a pink lunchbox. He shuts the lid gently and slides it inside a wicker basket. The muffled rumble and hum of the shower shuts off on the other side of the house, and Jinwoo knows Dongmin will be ready to go soon, too.

Eunbyeol shakes her head, peering up at her Dad in inquiry, round eyes sparkling. Her little lips pinch into a circle, squished in between her giant, plush cheeks. Jinwoo feels his heart shiver a little, at his daughter, who grows too fast for him to comprehend. It had only felt like a few weeks ago when he’d held her the first time – now, she fit like a puzzle piece against his hip.

Dongmin waltzes into the kitchen before Jinwoo can answer their daughter, towel draped over his damp hair, and dressed. He stoops low to where his daughter sits, pressing a long kiss into her dimpled cheeks. “We’re going to the park, Eunbyeol,” he informs her, and her fathers watch as her face soars upwards into a smile, and her chubby little hands clap together.

“Firstly – let’s get you dried, Mister,” Jinwoo mutters to Dongmin, pulling the towel from his dripping hair and scrubbing at his head.

The younger man laughs softly, “I’m not a child, Jinwoo,” he mutters, through his toothy smile, grabbing at Jinwoo’s hips to tug him closer. The brunet continues to dab away the drips in his thick, black hair, a small, sheepish smile decorating his lips. As he finishes drying Dongmin’s hair and fixing it into place, Jinwoo scoops their daughter into his arms and carries her away to her bedroom.

“What should we wear, today?” He asks her, setting her on the carpet. She digs through her wardrobe, clumsy hands scavenging through the piles of clothes. She and Jinwoo pick, together – with much guidance from him – a soft pink, floral dress, a straw hat with a pink ribbon tied into a bow around the middle, and a pair of soft, baby sneakers.

As he helps dress her, he comments, “You see, Eunbyeol, your father and I wanted to raise you a fashionable young woman,” she nods simply, not quite understanding. “You seem to be able to pull off almost anything, you big cutie,” he laughs, pinching at her cheeks.

Dongmin pokes his head into the room, “Are we ready to go?” he asks the pair, smiling softly at their daughter. “Oh, Byeol, you look so beautiful. Do a spin for your Papa,” he tells her, and she clumsily spins in her place, arms waving out by her sides to keep her upright. He catches her in his grasp and swings her onto his hip, collecting the wicker basket from the kitchen, before carrying her downstairs.

He clips her into her booster seat, clipping the straps together over her chest, before he and Jinwoo clamber into the front. She can see, from her place in the back seat, the road and how the world opens up through the front windscreen. The numbers on the speed-dial, and the radio swapping song titles, and the various buttons on the dashboard. Her fathers – her Papa by the steering wheel, laughing gently at something her Dada has said. Her Dada leans over the gearstick, slightly, one hand on her Papa’s knee, tracing patterns into the denim of his jeans.

The park is a long expanse of green grass, somewhere outside of the centre of the city, where the grey skyline can be seen from the top of the highest hill. A few rolling hills, smattered with various colourful flowers in rainbow bundles. The Spring breeze filters through the sun-stained grass, carrying with it a fresh and organic smell, unique to the season of rebirth.

Eunbyeol toddles about in the grass, kicking a soft, rubber ball between her and her fathers. They chase about in the grass, stumbling after each other and collecting hugs as their winning prizes. Eunbyeol slows to poke at lady beetles, scuttles off after butterflies, and collects pebbles in her small palms.

The picnic blanket is laid out atop the hill, the girl’s smaller sized snacks laid out in the middle for her to eat whenever she please, as breaks between playing.

In her flowery pink dress and delicate little sun hat, she fits in well with a patch of flowers in a rich bloom. She spins carefully between them, careful not to trod on the petals or stems, gently plucking them from their place in the ground to collect them in her palms.

Her father’s watch from their place on the picnic blanket, basking in the mild sun and letting the breeze wash over them.

“She grows too fast, right?” Dongmin says, playing with Jinwoo’s hair, as his head rests in his lap. Eunbyeol raises the fistful of pink flowers into the air to showcase to her fathers, calling for them, her honey-sweet voice carried by the wind.

Jinwoo doesn’t reply, only nods gently, bringing one hand up to pull Dongmin’s away from his hair and into his own, threading their fingers together – a silent agreement, one scorned with torment, but sweetened with pride.

Eunbyeol stumbles back up the hill to her fathers, flowers in hand, and deposits them by their feet before climbing into Dongmin’s lap, after Jinwoo lifts his head. Both fathers shift to lay back onto the blanket, letting their daughter clamber on their chests and wriggle in between them, as they glance up at the blue sky. Arms wrapped around each other, and smiles permanently fixed on their lips, the family wishes time would freeze – just for a while longer.

 

_The Third Year_

“You’re sleepy, aren’t you?”

Eunbyeol can hardly muster a nod, head bobbing up and down ever so slightly, as her eyes slip shut. She holds a piece of food in one hand, as her back coils over and sleep weighs heavy on her bones. Her fathers giggle softly, Dongmin reaching out to push her back up, straightening out her back. She blinks up at them lazily, pulling the food to her messy mouth again.

“Do you wanna go to bed, soon?” He laughs, and she nods again. Eunbyeol had missed her nap, today, everyone too busy with their friends to notice. The girl had loved playing with her ‘uncles’, so much, even she herself had forgotten to nap.

Jinwoo scoops her out of her seat and places her on the floor, “Well,” he starts, tapping her shoulders to catch her attention. “Let’s go brush our teeth, first,” he tells her, taking the mushy food from between her fingers and wiping them off. They make their way to the bathroom, where he washes her mouth and cheeks, and draws some toothpaste over her tiny, soft toothbrush.

Eunbyeol had learnt, with some supervision, to brush her own teeth. Jinwoo watches the spectacle, with a uniquely paternal fondness. White foam splatters around her lips, and drools down onto her shirt, and dribbles down onto her hand – but she’s trying, and he believes she’s doing so well in learning a critical skill. Occasionally, he guides her hand gently, and when she looks up at him to see if she’s doing right, he nods encouragingly.

She spits, and washes the sink out herself, rinsing her brush and her fingers out under the tap’s stream. Jinwoo fills a cup of water for her, which she meekly sips at to wash out her mouth, before climbing down and leading the way to her bedroom. He follows, taking slower strides behind the tiny figure. He watches as she picks out her pyjamas, and mostly dresses herself, clumsily, in the yellow light of her bedroom. How, she picks her favourite book from the shelf, one about a princess and a dragon and a knight, and waits patiently under her covers for her fathers to read her to sleep.

“Shall we call Dada?” Jinwoo asks, settling down beside her in the bed.

Together, they call for him, until Dongmin appears by the door. “Is it time for your bedtime story, Eunbyeol?” He asks, settling on Eunbyeol’s opposite side, the girl sandwiched between them. Dongmin takes the board book in his hands, examining the cover he knows by heart. The book is pink and gold, an illustrated princess in the arms of a prince, nestled together by a big, green, scaly dragon. Three bright smiles in the centre of the page.

The two parents know the words off by heart now, and Eunbyeol can finish some of the sentences as she reads along, learning the words as they go. It was her favourite book, demanding it be read almost every night. Neither of the men can figure out exactly _why_ it was her favourite, but nonetheless, they flicked through the card pages carefully and read each word and examined the pictures, and Eunbyeol loved every moment of it.

As Dongmin starts reading aloud, Jinwoo snuggles further into the bed, one hand tickling the small stretch of Eunnbyeol’s arm softly, soothing her to sleep. They follow the words, reading the dialogue with comical voices. In the beginning, Jinwoo had been both the dragon and the princess, but now that Eunbyeol was learning the words, she began to voice the princess, instead.

Eunbyeol falls asleep before the book is finished, tonight. Her tiny body coils up on itself and her chests rises and falls, a teddy clutched beneath her arm. Jinwoo presses feather light kisses to her cheeks and forehead, smoothing back her long black hair, before carefully climbing out of the bed. Dongmin follows, lifting her blankets over her small body, and tucking her in. He puts the book back on the shelf, and the two tread carefully towards the door, stopping beneath the frame to watch her before they leave.

She’s so small, it’s as if she’s swimming within the blankets, her body a small lump beneath the sheets. Her hair is splayed out delicately above her head, her fingers twitching as they grasp at the teddy in her arms.

“Remember when that bear was the same size as her?” Jinwoo recalls the night of her first birthday, and the way she’d curled into it’s false embrace. Now, it fits like a wedge between her side and her arm, it’s soft fur gentle against her skin.

“Gosh,” Dongmin mumbles, tugging at Jinwoo’s wrist and switching off the overhead light, stealing one last glance at their beautiful daughter in her most peaceful moments. “Don’t remind me how fast she’s growing, JinJin,” he whines, and Jinwoo laughs heartily.

“We’re getting older, too,” Jinwoo chuckles, kissing Dongmin, sweetly on his cheek.

Dongmin captures Jinwoo’s lips in his own, before he can turn away. “Don’t remind me of that, either,” he says, a deceptively stern tone to his voice. A lazy smile climbs onto his cheeks, as he releases Jinwoo’s wrist from his grasp. “Shall we go to bed?” He asks, gesturing to their bedroom behind them.

“Honey,” Jinwoo mutters, “It’s half-past-six. We must _really_ be getting old,” he jokes, but turns toward their bedroom, anyway.

The younger man groans, rubbing at his eyes. “We’re not old!” He cries, following after his companion. “I’m just exhausted after today, and I wanna cuddle with you,” he whines, undoing the first button of his shirt.

“We can cuddle all you want, then,” Jinwoo smiles, stepping forward to help him. With nimble fingers, he peels the buttons through the button holes and pulls Dongmin’s shirt off, lovingly pressing his fingers to the revealed skin.

Dongmin sighs, gently, a small smile slithering onto his lips. He lifts Jinwoo’s fingers from his chest, “Not tonight; not while she’s in the other room,” he mumbles, kissing Jinwoo’s forehead. It had been a while, truthfully, since they’d done anything remotely sexy for one another – sometimes, they handed Eunbyeol off to one of the boys or their parents to care for her. Just for a night away, a night to themselves. They loved Eunbyeol more than anything – but every now and then, one night to spend however they pleased was all they craved.

The older man curls his nose up, “Excuse me, I was simply _admiring_ you. You’re very beautiful, you know?” He mumbles, moving his fingers up to caress Dongmin’s cheeks. Pulling his chin closer, pressing a long kiss to his lips. Feeling the curve of his jaw, and spine, and hip, beneath his clothes.

The room is dark, the mere glow of the moon enveloping them in a pale light, as they stand by the foot of their bed, connected at their middles. It’s romantic, chaste, and loving.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey hey please talk to me about this and give me love and attention bc i need it and i will accept it anywhere especially on my [tumblr](parkjinchu.tumblr.com) or my [twitter](twitter.com/parkjinchu) i love you thanks for reading pls feel free to send me prompts and ideas and feedback i love everythign :D


	4. The Fourth Year - The Fifth Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eunbyeol is growing too fast, and Jinwoo gets emotional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... second to last chapter?! LETS GO  
> dont worry please dont miss this fic because im making a series out of it simply because i enjoy writing it soooo much haha  
> enjoy!~

_The Fourth Year_

Dongmin hooks the tiny backpack sleeves over Eunbyeol’s shoulders, setting her down by the door to help her slip on her shoes. She wriggles her flat little feet into her sneakers, clumsy fingers lifting the heel around her ankle. Jinwoo had brushed her hair and parted it down the middle, braiding delicate little black plaits that dangle down past her ears and onto her shoulders.

“Are you excited?” He asks her, as he comes around the corner, car keys in hand, and slips into his own shoes. “For your first day of kindergarten?”

Eunbyeol stands on her feet, waddling towards the door. She gives a docile nod, awkwardly hovering in the open doorway where Dongmin waits outside. She opens her mouth to say something, but shuts it, her little pink lips pouting for a moment, before she smiles. “Come on, Papa, let’s go,” she says, waving her hand to gather him outside.

Jinwoo glances up at his partner, worry set deep in his gaze. Dongmin returns the look, fixed with a wry smile, and takes Eunbyeol’s hand in his, helping her down the stairs. “You know, Byeol-ie,” he smiles down at her, and she peers up at him. “Kindergarten is really fun – you get to play games, and you’ll make lots of new friends,” he tells her, in attempts to quell her apparent fears.

She focuses her gaze on the pavement before them, nodding lazily again. Eunbyeol clambers into the car and does up her belt herself, playing with her fingers and the hemming of her shorts, as Jinwoo starts the car, and begins the journey. The two men talk quietly between themselves, occasionally glancing behind them at their daughter, who watches the word slide by without conversation.

The kindergarten is a large, colourful building, with toys scattered across the playground, and dozens of plants growing along the fencing. Jinwoo pulls into the carpark, watching through the rear-view mirror as Eunbyeol glances out the window with critiquing eyes, a frown drawn up on her lips.

Dongmin turns to her, unclipping his belt, “Are you nervous, baby?” He asks, gently, reaching a hand out to touch her leg.

Eunbyeol turns back to him, nodding again, her braids shifting slightly – and then, she starts to cry. He sighs, gently, giving her knee a soft squeeze, before clumsily scrambling into the back seat to join her, long legs stretching over the console. Eunbyeol reaches out for him, and he quickly unclips her belts and scoops her into his embrace. His daughter sobs into his t-shirt, clutching at the fabric.

Jinwoo shuts the car off and manoeuvres himself to sit on the console between the driver and passenger seats, rubbing her back gently. Eunbyeol wraps her tiny legs around her Dada’s waist, clutching onto him and snuggling further into his body. Her tiny shoulders shake, her sobs rattling her whole body, whimpering cries escaping her.

“Oh, Byeol-ie,” Jinwoo murmurs, patting her hair. “I know your first day of school can make you nervous…” He says, and she pokes her little pink face out from Dongmin’s chest to look at him, sniffling. “But, Byeol, you’ll make so many friends, and you’ll learn lots of new things, and you’ll play lots of fun games,” he explains.

“And, in the end of the day,” Dongmin continues, and she flicks her head around to him, “You can come home, and we’ll make you afternoon tea, and you can tell us all the things you did today!”

She smiles shyly, wiping at her face with the thick of her palm. Sniffling, she says, “I don’t want you to go…”

They’d left her numerous times, letting the boys care for her, or her grandparents. She was used to the separation, if only for one night. However, this time, she recognises the different environment, and notices the strangers wandering around the playground. Both fathers had confidence she’d be absolutely fine after her first hour in the new school, and that she’d adapt to the timetable shift rather quickly. It was this first speed bump, they knew, that would be the most challenging.

Dongmin sighs, taking her tiny hand in his palm. “How’s about we come in with you?” He asks, smoothing her hair down with his other hand. She nods into his touch, sniffling once more, and Jinwoo takes her into his arms, so Dongmin can crawl out of the car and retrieve her school bag.

Once everyone has left the car, they stand by the entrance to the building, where little potted flowers line the pathway. Eunbyeol kicks her little sneaker against the gravel, her hands squeezing onto both her fathers’ hands, strung on either side of her. A bright, rainbow sticker beckons the family inside, in bold, bubbly letters that read, _Welcome Inside!_

“Take a deep breath, baby girl,” Jinwoo mutters, peering down at her. He watches her little back stretch outwards a little, her belly protruding as she gasps in a deep breath. Eunbyeol holds it for a moment, before letting it go. He squeezes her hand, “You okay, now?” He asks, and she smiles up at him.

“I think.”

The end of the day comes quickly.

Jinwoo and Dongmin arrive a few minutes early, observing from the waiting room, Eunbyeol playing with a group of other small children, by the drawing table. Her plaits have fallen out a little, and there’s a stain from her packed lunch on the neck of her shirt – but there’s a smile pulled up on her face, as she laughs with the children she sits with. She doesn’t spot her parents, sharing pencils around the table with her classmates and scribbling away on the page.

“I like seeing her like this,” Jinwoo mutters to Dongmin, stepping a little closer to him, leaning his weight along the taller boy’s side. He hums softly, a fond smile slithering onto his lips, “I was worried, you know? That she’d have a rough time. That, maybe, she wouldn’t make any friends. This is the first time I’ve seen her be so happy, caused by something completely unrelated to us…”

“Does it hurt?” Dongmin asks, sneakily resting one hand on Jinwoo’s hip. “To see that we might not be the only things that make her so happy, anymore?”

The older male ponders for a moment, before shaking his head, his hair tickling Dongmin’s chin. “Not as much as I thought it would,” he answers, honestly. Eunbyeol is chatting with one of her teachers, now kneeled beside her, gesturing at her drawing. “She’s happy – that’s all I could ever want,” he decides, tearing his gaze away from their daughter, and up to his lover. “Why? How do you feel?”

There’s a long silence. Until, “Ever since I met you, whenever I saw you happy, I’d feel just as happy, if not more,” Dongmin replies, pressing a light kiss to the curve of Jinwoo’s hairline, above his temple. “I feel just the same, when I see her.”

Jinwoo hums in agreement, the vibration rumbling against Dongmin’s chest. He wants to press further into him, to kiss him on his lips, and tell him he loves him – but, Dongmin can feel eyes on them already, and stays where he is.

When Eunbyeol scurries out of the classroom, she carries in tow her artwork. A simple piece of white butcher’s paper, with heavy-handed coloured pencil scribbles decorating the centre. Proudly she holds it above her heads and showcases it to her father’s. Jinwoo carefully takes the drawing into his hand, taking caution not to bend the paper (though in her running, it had whipped about in the air and already creased).

There’s a big blue scribble, and a slightly bigger black scribble. Between them, and connected by pink lines, is a small pink scribble. Each scribble has crude smile etched into the top half, and long limbs with circular hands, spindly fingers and toes. There’s a rough attempt at a love heart drawn above the three scribbles, which, too, has a rough smiley face in the centre. In the far left corner, in very neat handwriting, obviously by a teacher, is written:

_Park-Lee Eun Byeol._

_Dada, Papa, and Me._

_I love my Dada. I love my Papa. They love me._

It’s signed off with the date, and underneath, Eunbyeol’s name, written by herself.

After Dongmin snatches the drawing away from the threat of Jinwoo’s tears, the artwork is proudly showcased on the fridge door, for all to see when they enter the Park-Lee home.

 

_The Fifth Year_

“I don’t want too.”

“Stop it,” Dongmin demands. “You’re being stubborn, Jinwoo. I can’t believe this,” he chastises, attempting to yank Jinwoo out of their bed by his arm. It’s a childish game of tug of war, the pair fighting over whether to get up and wake their daughter, or stay in bed a while longer.

The older man resists, tugging his arm harshly, until the struggling Dongmin falls on top of him. With a disgruntled huff, Dongmin shifts until he’s sitting directly on Jinwoo’s chest, and starts to bounce, winding his partner with every fall onto his chest.

“Fucking hell,” Jinwoo wheezes quietly, pushing the younger away by his hips, feeling the weight lift off his chest. Dongmin had been very light, once, when they were younger. Both of them – they were once slimmer, faster, and carried themselves with less aches. Even so, Dongmin still holds every ounce of his beauty, even though his face pulls with the earliest signs of aging.

When Dongmin is safely off his lungs, but still settling his warmth over Jinwoo, the elder of the two wraps his arms around him, and holds him close. Clearly, Dongmin had given up on trying to get Jinwoo out of bed, and snuggled into his chest. “I’m cold,” he mumbles, warm breath fanning over Jinwoo’s bare chest.

Without a word, Jinwoo pulls the blanket out from under Dongmin’s legs, and over his back. The younger male almost mewls, pressing his face further into the expanse of Jinwoo’s chest, warm palms settling onto his sides. Jinwoo runs a hair through the thick black hair nestled on his chest, plaiting clumps, before smoothing them back at along his skull. Silence blankets the room, heavy and uncomfortable.

Dongmin hums after the long silence, “You’re upset, aren’t you?” He asks, unmoving.

Jinwoo remains silent, his hands falling from Dongmin’s hair, and onto his back.

“Yeah.” There was no need to lie – they could read each other as well as they knew Eunbyeol’s favourite book. Had been able to, since they first met.

A pause. “Is it about tomorrow?”

“Possibly.”

Tomorrow – Eunbyeol’s first day of elementary school. She had been excited for weeks, regularly wearing her school uniform around the house, imagining all the classes she’d partake in, and the friends she would make. Her eagerness to grow up tugged uncomfortably at something in Jinwoo’s chest, he’d confessed to Dongmin one night.

Jinwoo feared the next day’s arrival. Perhaps he hoped that staying bed meant time would freeze, and the sun would never set and rise again, and their daughter wouldn’t grow even bigger. Dongmin doesn’t push it – instead, shifts upwards, careful when placing his weight, and presses a soft kiss to Jinwoo’s cheek. It’s damp, and Dongmin hadn’t even realised.

He brings a hand up to cup at Jinwoo’s cheek, letting him cry into Dongmin’s palm. With his thumb, Dongmin gently brushes away fresh tears, shifting their bodies, until Jinwoo is tucked safely into his own chest. Jinwoo’s chest jitters against his own, as he sniffles quietly. Neither of them say anything, until Jinwoo settles down, cheeks red and eyes puffy. Dongmin presses a soft kiss to his lips, “We’ll be okay,” is all he says.

The door clicks, opens a gap, and two little eyes peer through the space, up onto the bed where the fathers lay.

Dongmin turns his head, looking over his shoulder at the little girl standing by the door. She must’ve woken up on her own, and come over for morning cuddles. Her cheeks are puffy and have pillow creases dented into them, and her pigtails are lopsided on either side of her head. Waving meekly, she asks if she can come in.

“Yeah, baby, come in,” Jinwoo says, from the other side of the bed.

Eunbyeol clutches onto Dongmin, using him as a grapple to haul herself up onto the tall bed. With some help from her Dad, the girl climbs onto the bed, and slithers between the two men under the blankets. “Good morning,” she mumbles, her cold little toes pressing against their warm thighs. She tucks her little head further under the blankets, and takes in a deep breath, allowing the warm and comforting scent of her fathers’ to encompass her.

“Good morning, Eunbyeol-ie,” Dongmin greets, kissing one of her puffy cheeks.

Her soft giggle lights up the once solemn room, as she wriggles away from him. Light chuckles fill the still air, as Eunbyeol squeals in delight.

Eunbyeol peers up at Jinwoo, cupping one of her small palms to the spot beneath his chin. There’s a sprinkle of stubble, and her curious hands feel the prickle beneath the tips of her fingers. She spots the pink tracks tracing down from his eyes, and a small frown is etched into her features. “You okay, Papa?” She asks, prodding with her small finger at his cheeks.

Jinwoo hums, kissing her forehead. “I’m fine, baby,” he replies, taking a hold of her hand and kissing her knuckles.

“You were crying,” she observes, bluntly.

Dongmin smiles lightly, curling further into her. “Eunbyeol, Papa is a little upset,” he explains. “You know, sometimes you feel sad? Papa feels the same, right now.” She nods, and peers up at Jinwoo again. Jinwoo nods, agreeing. He sniffles lightly, and pats her hair back, smoothing it out over the part and tucking the parts that have fallen out behind her ears.

“You need a hug,” she explains, rolling closer towards him. “That’s what you told me. When I’m upset, the only thing that can make me feel better is a hug and a kiss. Is that what makes you feel better, too, Papa?”

Jinwoo’s eyes well up again, at Eunbyeol’s endearing kindness. Her eyes are sparkling with curiosity, gazing directly into his, and Jinwoo blinks back the tears that fight for freedom, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “That’s exactly what Papa needs. Thank you, Eunbyeol,” he grins at her.

She nods, wrapping one of her tiny arms around his shoulder, craning her neck up to press a sticky kiss to his cheek. Jinwoo chuckles, giving her a kiss in return, and pressing her close to his chest. He tries to ignore the size of his hand against her spine, which once fit into his palm; now, his fingers can barely spread across to either side of her back.

Dongmin shuffles closer, wrapping his arms over the two of them. Eunbyeol fits between them perfectly, her small chest rising and falling against their own, her tiny heartbeat thrumming opposite Jinwoo’s.

The three accidentally fall asleep again, wrapped in each other’s arms. The following day brings with it many tears and kisses and hugs. Eunbyeol confidently grows into an elementary school girl; the two parents realise they can do little but watch her grow before their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu! support me!! gimme love!! id love to hear your thoughts on the fic and upcoming series!  
> im planning lots of other things too  
> see what i post [here](parkjinchu.tumblr.com)  
> and keep up with me [here](twitter.com/parkjinchu)  
> see you on the next chapter, coming soon <3


	5. The Sixth Year - The Seventh Year (+ until the very end)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and so, the story will not end, but here is where they finish telling it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!! read the end notes for some more!!  
> dont forget that im going to try and turn this fic into a series, so look out for that - and possibly remind me... im terribly forgetful.  
> i hope you enjoy!

_The Sixth Year_

“Look!” Eunbyeol cries, a screech echoing throughout the house. Jinwoo had been in the midst of making dinner, Dongmin reading on the couch, when Eunbyeol’s desperate cry rung out, and they sprinted down the hallway to the bathroom. Worry flooding them and weighing heavy in the pits of their stomachs, the two fathers hurry into the small room, where Eunbyeol stands on a stool and peers at her reflection in the mirror.

“What’s wrong?!” Dongmin cries.

Eunbyeol turns to them, thumb and forefinger in between her lips. “Look,” she says around her digits, muffled. “I got my first wobbly tooth!” To further express her excitement, she stretches her jaw open and takes one of her front teeth between her two fingers – lo and behold, her tooth wiggles in it’s place in her gums.

Jinwoo rests against the wall with a huff, clutching at his chest. “Eunbyeol,” He grumbles sternly. “Please don’t scream like that. We thought something had happened to you.” He pushes his hand through his hair, gazing over at Dongmin, who looks just as relieved, and just as annoyed.

“Something _has_ happened to me!” Eunbyeol cries, pointing into her mouth and broadly smiling. Her left front tooth sticks out a bit further than the right one, poking out from beneath her top lip.

Dongmin huffs out a chuckle, “Let me see,” he mutters, stepping forward and examining her tooth.

Jinwoo shields his eyes, “Oh my God, _no_ ,” he mutters, stepping out of the bathroom. “I can’t handle this wobbly tooth business… It terrified me when I was a kid, too!” He peers between his fingers briefly, at Dongmin wobbling Eunbyeol’s tooth himself, and quickly hides behind his hands again.

Dongmin pulls away, rolling his eyes at Jinwoo. “Do you really think that’s the appropriate thing to say right now? Don’t freak her out,” he mumbles, raising his legs and kicking a soft kick to the older male’s shin. He turns back to the girl, “Are you excited to lose your first tooth?”

“Yeah!” Eunbyeol cheers, big, toothy grin shining. Soon, that smile would have a gap in it’s centre. “A girl in my class already lost some of her teeth! She said the tooth fairy gave her a dollar for each tooth,” she rattles, wiggling her tooth a little harsher.

“Careful,” Jinwoo mutters, watching her with a flicker of fear in his eyes.

“Do you have to tell the tooth fairy you lost a tooth?” Eunbyeol asks, stepping down from the stool. “Or does she just know?”

Dongmin grins, patting her hair down. “She’s magic, Byeol, I think she just knows.”

A six-year-old’s mind is a curious habitat, with many questions on life’s much simpler ideas. So, Eunbyeol asks another question, absolutely enamoured by the idea of a fairy that buys her lost teeth. “What does she do with all the teeth?”

Dongmin pretends to ponder a moment, humming lowly. “I don’t know,” he tells her. “I think she keeps that a secret. What do you think she does?”

Eunbyeol squeezes her eyes shut, holding a long, thoughtful silence. “Maybe,” she mutters, “She makes fairy dust! Can I ask her?”

“Sure,” Dongmin replies, nodding. “Why don’t you write her a letter, and tuck it under your pillow with your tooth when you lose it?”

Eunbyeol nods, before scurrying out of the room, muttering something about finding her pencils and paper. Jinwoo lowers his hands once the girl leaves the small bathroom, eyeing the younger man closely. “You’re dealing with all further tooth losses,” he mumbles, grimacing. “I really can’t handle that stuff, Min. Her bones are falling out of her, think about it!”

Dongmin laughs gently, kissing Jinwoo’s knuckles. “I promise I’ll deal with all of that. Do you want to write the reply to Eunbyeol’s letter, at least?” He asks, under his breath.

Jinwoo shifts his gaze to their connected hands, and nods briefly. “As long as I don’t have to see the tooth,” he huffs out a deprecating laugh, and Dongmin laughs too, agreeing, and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

When Eunbyeol does lose her tooth, she triumphantly holds it in the palm of her hand. Like a pearl in a clam, the lost tooth glimmers in her grasp. She slips the tooth and her letter addressed to the tooth fairy under her pillow, and goes to sleep with excitement for the day ahead. Dongmin, as promised, retrieves the tooth and the letter, handing the envelope to Jinwoo.

The paper envelope has a crude, coloured pencil drawing of a woman in a long blue dress with big, sparkling wings. In Eunbyeol’s handwriting, with admittedly poor spelling, she’s address it to the mystical fairy. The letter inside asks a few questions, such as ‘where do you live?’, and most importantly, ‘what do you use my teeth for?’.

“I don’t have very feminine handwriting,” Jinwoo confesses, as he grabs a piece of paper and a pen.

“Eunbyeol won’t notice,” Dongmin mutters, peering over his shoulder as his partner begins.

_Dearest Eunbyeol,_

_Thank you for your lovely letter. It’s wonderful to see you have grown so much that you’ve lost your first tooth today. This is a very exciting time for you!_

_I’m afraid I can’t answer all of your questions, as we Tooth Fairy have to keep it secret. I live in a big forest, with millions of other fairies, and elves, and other magical beings. My favourite colour is blue. My favourite animal is a bunny._

_What I use your teeth for is supposed to be a secret – so don’t tell anyone, Eunbyeol! Children’s lost teeth are very magical, so we use them to make magic to heal sick animals. We also use them as fairy dust to help us fly!_

_Eunbyeol, as your tooth fairy, it is my duty to make sure you take care of your teeth. Brush them twice a day, and don’t eat too many sugary foods, okay? Your fathers know when you’ve had too much sugar, so make sure to listen to them!_

_Take care, Eunbyeol._

_Love, from the Tooth Fairy._

 

_The Seventh Year_

“I want to be a ballerina!”

Eunbyeol declares this one night, as the family huddles on the couch, watching the television. The ballerinas bound across the stage in perfect synch, their tutus springing with every step, their pointe shoes delicately wrapped around their calf muscles.

In fairness, Eunbyeol had wanted to be every profession under the sun. Last week, she saw a cartoon about a dog in space, and decided she wanted to be an astronaut. The month before, she saw firefighters heroically distinguish a building up in flames, and had mentioned how interesting it would be to be a firefighter. At one point, she’d wanted to be a doctor – but took one look at the needles in the doctor’s office and changed her mind.

“Do you?” Jinwoo asked, playing with the end of her plait. She sits between the two men, on both of their laps, nestled under a blanket and beneath their arms. Eunbyeol nods, eyes fixed on the ballerina’s graceful gallops, gaze sparkling. “Should we take you to ballet classes, then?” They’d supported each and every one of her dream jobs thus far – verbally – but this was the first career the parents could physically and economically provide for.

“Yes!” Eunbyeol cries, clutching onto the blanket in her excitement. “Yes, please!”

A few days later, the pair sign their daughter up for after school ballet classes. Every night, her parents drop her off at the ballet school, and pick her up an hour later. Each time, she excitedly tells them all the things she learnt, and shows them when they arrive home.

With every ounce of encouragement from her fathers’, Eunbyeol works hard. She practices her leaps and her splits and her spins. She requests the help of her dancing uncles, Moonbin, and Minhyuk. Eunbyeol tires herself out, and as each day ends, she babbles lazily about how she cannot wait for the next.

When the end of the year for her classes arrives, Eunbyeol is to put on a performance. She tells her parents proudly, exclaiming with excitement that her teacher is choreographing a piece for their team. She practices in her bedroom, in the living room whilst they watch television, and in front of the mirror in the father’s bedroom.

All is well – until presentation day.

“Papa, Dad, I’m nervous,” she mumbles, as they pull up to the performance hall. She sits in the back seat in a pink leotard and soft, pink ballet flats wrapped around her ankles. Her big, fluffy tutu sits beside her, tulle falling into her lap and over the back seat. Eunbyeol rubs nervously at her stomach with one hand, chewing the nails of her fingers on the other hand.

Jinwoo parks the car underneath a tree, in the shade, and the two parents peer into the back. “Nervous?” Dongmin asks, furrowing his brows. “But, this morning, you were excited.”

Eunbyeol huffs, “Well, _now_ , I’m nervous.” She pokes at the bun on her head, wrapped tightly and rock hard under layers of hairspray. Pursing her lips, she looks away from them, and outside, where a bunch of other little ballerinas gather.

“Which part are you nervous about?” asks Jinwoo, reaching around and resting a hand on her little knee. Eunbyeol remains silent, chewing on her fingers and avoiding looking at the two men at all. “If you don’t tell us, Byeol-ie, we can’t help you, honey,” he mutters, giving her leg a pat.

Sighing, she turns back to them. “What if I mess it up? So many people will be there, it’ll be so embarrassing,” she mumbles, playing with her fingers.

“Eunbyeol… Eunbyeol-ie, look at me,” Dongmin urges, to catch her attention. She complies after a moment, looking at him. “How long have you practiced for, hmm? You know every single move off by heart. And, even if you do mess up, the show will go on, and no one will notice,” he smiles softly.

The girl hums lowly, looking away. She kicks her feet against the seat, “I don’t remember the moves anymore,” she utters, hiding her face in her little palms. Her shoulders start to shake, and both men can feel their hearts swoop into their stomachs.

Jinwoo hums gently, “You know, Eunbyeol, that’s the nerves. It’s okay to feel nervous. And, I promise, when the music starts and you walk on stage, all the moves will come back to your brain, and you’ll perform very well,” he assures, and she smiles meekly at him, wiping at her eyes.

“You promise?” She asks, sniffling.

“One-hundred-percent,” he tells her, and Dongmin nods in agreement.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up so you can go on stage, yeah?” the younger man asks, unclipping his belt and sliding out of the car. As everyone steps out, Eunbyeol slips her tutu on, and leads her parents to the bathrooms where she washes her face.                                                                                                                                             

They walk to the main hall together, hand in hand, Eunbyeol fit between her dads and skirt bouncing with every step the three of them take. She swings between their hold, giggling as she soars through the air for a moment. Her nerves have mostly subsided, she declares, as they enter backstage, and both men press a kiss to her forehead.

“Do your best, Byeol-ie,” Jinwoo whispers, wrapping her up in his arms. Dongmin joins in, too, kissing both of them. Eunbyeol struggles to have her arms reach around Dongmin, so her little hands sit on his ribcage, as far as she can reach as he wraps around Jinwoo’s back. She scurries off, soon enough, to join the group of her classmates, babbling in the corner.

The two fathers stick around for a moment, watching her hug her friends, and laugh playfully with them. They don’t need to mention it, anymore, that she’s getting older. It hurts too much to say – somehow, the pride only just manages to weigh this horrendous feeling out. Pride – that, she was growing into a beautiful, confident, and kind young woman.

Waiting in the auditorium, Dongmin mentions his nerves.

“I noticed; you’re bobbing your leg, and it’s frustrating,” Jinwoo mumbles, pressing a hand down onto his partner’s knee and smoothing over the denim with his thumb, in attempts to calm him slightly.

The younger man huffs out a noise, that sounds something dimly like a laugh, and places his hand over Jinwoo’s. He peers over at Jinwoo’s phone, scrolling through his photos, “Make sure you have enough battery to film,” he urges, glancing between the brunet and the stage.

“Dongmin…” Jinwoo groans, dropping his phone in his lap and turning to the man. “Stop worrying,” he says, quietly, cupping Dongmin’s face in his hands, pulling him in toward him for a quick peck on the lips. “As if I wouldn’t film the performance,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes, and pushing Dongmin’s hair out of his eyes.

“Your temper is too short, these days,” Dongmin jokes, “Old man.”

Jinwoo’s face squeezes into a grimace, at the name. “And _you_ worry too much,” Jinwoo bites back, crossing his arms over his chest. Dongmin giggles, tugging on Jinwoo’s arm, and leaning in for a kiss. “Ah, come on,” Jinwoo mumbles, submitting to Dongmin’s wishes, and leaning over toward his lips. “We’re getting too old for this nonsense,” he smiles, grin cheeky, and Dongmin happily pecks the corners of it.

The lights dim, soon after, and Jinwoo pulls his phone camera up and begins recording. The teacher explains what the class had been learning, and how excited they were to perform for their parents. The music begins, and the girls all scuttle onto the stage, tutus bobbing as they line up.

Eunbyeol desperately searches for her parents whilst she waits for her cue, squinting under the bright lights. When she spots them, a gigantic grin splits her face and she waves softly to them – to which she receives big, excited waves in return.

She senses her cue, and as hypothesised, remembers every single step of the dance. She springs across the stage, arms moving with as much grace as a seven-year-old could muster, toes pointed perfectly straight. The whole time, she has a soft and determined smile on her face, one that regularly appeared on her features, but was adored each time by her parents.

When the performance ends, she and her friends bow. Under the bright lights, and within her own aura, she is sparkling. Eunbyeol beams, fluffing out her tutu and spinning about on the stage as applause falls over the auditorium. She receives a trophy for her efforts, and when dismissed from the stage, hurries to her parents.

Jinwoo and Dongmin wait with wide, open arms, as their daughter runs over and bounces into their hold, giggling in their grasp. After many kisses, and congratulations, and telling her she did well, they ask someone to take a picture of them.

Eunbyeol stands between the two fathers, crooked and gapped smile beaming brightly. Her trophy sits proudly in her palms, held up for the camera to see. Jinwoo and Dongmin stand either side of her, arms wrapped around each other and their daughter.

The memory is added to the long collection of moments that glimmered with pride for Eunbyeol, before it slips out of their grasp, and the new day comes along.

 

_Until the very end._

A person lives, on average, just over 27,000 days.

One day is no different to another, except for the connections made and emotions felt. Each day, the sun will drag itself over the sky, before it sets in a marvellous smattering of brilliant colours, until the night drowns the world in it’s inky darkness. A day can only be different to the one before it by the people within it.

Eunbyeol came into Jinwoo and Dongmin’s life suddenly. The days were quieter, longer, and a little more careful. As Eunbyeol grew, some days felt like they were too loud, not long enough, and too reckless. Either way – they were lived, and lived to the fullest they could have been, and filled with the utmost love.

 

_There comes a day when this will end, and we will not live to see the sun rise in shades of yellow and red. When we won’t get to feel the sun on our backs, or the wind in our hair, or the feeling of our daughter’s hands within our own. So, for now, we live each day until it ends, and wait until the sun creates a brand new day._

_Our family is small, but the love we share outgrows our own hearts, and the happiness we hold is too wide to fit inside our smiles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who read, left kudos, comment, and messages for me, for this fic! thank you very very much for sticking by me and oh, the stars shine, and jincha.  
> please excitedly wait for more of my works, i promise to bring more soon :D  
> to keep up with me, find me on my [twitter](twitter.com/parkjinchu) or my [tumblr](parkjinchu.tumblr.com)! also feel free to send me messages about anything astro related (or not, i love a good chat ;p) or prompts for upcoming works.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed and look forward to seeing more of this fic :) please like a comment with feedback, and if you have any prompts id love to hear them at my [tumblr](parkjinchu.tumblr.com) or my [twitter](twitter.com/parkjinchu). hmu <3 see you soon


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